User:Sbh/Clyomon/Prologue/Modern Spelling


 * As lately lifting up the leaves of worthy writers’ works,
 * Wherein the noble acts and deeds of many hidden lurks,
 * Our author he hath found the glass of glory shining bright,
 * Wherein their lives are to be seen which honor did delight,
 * To be a lantern unto those which daily do desire
 * Apollo’s garland by desert in time for to aspire;
 * Wherein the froward chances oft of fortune you shall see,
 * Wherein the cheerful countenance of good successes be,
 * Wherein true lovers findeth joy with hugy heaps of care,
 * Wherein as well as famous facts, ignomious placed are,
 * Wherein the just reward of both is manifestly shown,
 * That virtue from the root of vice might openly be known.
 * And doubting naught right courteous all, in your accustomed wont
 * And gentle ears, our author he is prest to bide the brunt
 * Of babblers’ tongues, to whom be thinks as frustrate all his toil,
 * As pearls taste to filthy swine which in the mire doth moil.
 * Well, what he hath done for your delight, he gave not me in charge:
 * The actors come, who shall express the same to you at large.

[Exit.